


Does Not Stamp Its Own Coin

by coricomile



Series: We Are [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think," Sid says hesitantly, eyeing the sweep of Artemi's bare back. He's got an uneven tan that falls off entirely under the sagging waistband of his trunks. Sid traces the faded line with gentle fingertips and nods. "I think we should go upstairs." Artemi says something in quick Russian, his eyebrows high. Sid recognizes the word <i>dick</i> and he's ninety percent sure it's not an insult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does Not Stamp Its Own Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up right after We are the Time, We are the Famous.

It takes a week for the hangovers to pass. Sid stops drinking before Geno and Artemi do, but Artemi's young enough to power through the headaches and Geno's stubborn enough not to care. Sid's mildly ashamed of the burst of fondness he feels for them. It's not a new feeling, the shame or the fondness. 

He's spent the week bouncing between parties and press obligations, crashing out at Geno's at the end of the night. It's nice having a chunk of space cleared out there specifically for him. The house is never quiet, not really, and Artemi has a fondness for climbing into Sid's bed at night to snuggle that Sid's endlessly endeared with. Some nights Geno follows him in and they sandwich in on the bed together, close and too warm under the covers. Other nights he drops in long enough to say good night before heading to his own room. 

"He kick," Artemi says one night, head pillowed on Sid's shoulder. His hair, freshly cut by Sid's barber, tickles at Sid's jaw, but Sid ignores it. He didn't think he'd like this part of dating so much; he closeness, the casual touching that comes so ingrained in Artemi and Geno. "Like horse. Bad for sleep."

Artemi's English has picked up a lot over the season. He put more effort into learning than Geno had, and while he's not quite up to Geno's level yet, Sid has no doubts that he'll get there fast. Sid's learning his own share of Russian, which seems only fair, but he's locking that down as a secret until he's better at it. It can't be all insults all the time. 

"Go to sleep," Sid says, curling his fingers in Artemi's hair. In a few minutes he'll roll over, never able to sleep on his back, and Artemi will latch onto him like an eager leech. "I think I've almost got all the alcohol out of my bloodstream."

"You champion," Artemi says. A frisson of pure joy climbs Sid's spine. It doesn't get old hearing that. "Allowed little drunk."

" _Sleep_."

\---

Sid's not naive enough to think that this wonderful, endless stretch of time is going to last forever. They've all got their own summer obligations, planned out from months and months ago, about to crash down on them. Sid's got the hockey school and Taylor's only free for so long to spend time with and Jonny wants to train together in preparation for the World Cup. Geno and Artemi's flight leaves for Russia in a week and there won't be a chance for them to get together again until camp starts up. 

He tries not to think about it too much. Geno's caught him brooding more than once. He swears that nothing's going to change, that he and Artemi will still want Sid at the end of the summer, that they'll pick right back up, but Sid gets a little sick every time he thinks about them being so far away for so long. It's selfish and unfair of him to want them to stay, to want to steal them away to Canada until hockey starts back up, but he can't help it.

The weeks he'd spent avoiding them had been miserable. He knew he got clingy, knew he had a bad habit of overstaying his welcome with people that he liked, but he hadn't realized just how much time he spent here, surrounded by the easy cadence of Russian and the sweet, familiar smell of a house settled properly into. But when he'd seen Artemi tripping out of the guest room, beard burn and hickeys and all, he'd felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He ran away and kept running. 

Now, looking at Geno and Artemi wrestling on the floor of the living room, he feels stupid. All he'd done was put off the inevitable. 

Geno sits hard on Artemi's stomach, knees almost up to his ears, and throws his arms over his head in victory. They're both shirtless and still vaguely damp from the hours they'd spent in the pool. Artemi turns big, pleading eyes on Sid and Sid has to go over and join the dog pile. He knocks Geno onto his back, careful of his head, and holds him down while Artemi digs his fingers into the soft spaces of ribs and stomach. Geno yelps and bucks like a wild thing, but Sid's always outweighed him and he doesn't seem like he's trying too hard to get away. 

"You win," Geno gasps, collapsing back against the carpet. He catches Artemi's wrist in his hand and drags him down against his chest. For a moment they all just lie there, Geno breathing hard under them, soaking up each others' warmth. Sid's chest aches. He doesn't have to do anything special to make them like him. He shows up, shoves himself into their spaces, and they welcome him with open arms. 

"I think," Sid says hesitantly, eyeing the sweep of Artemi's bare back. He's got an uneven tan that falls off entirely under the sagging waistband of his trunks. Sid traces the faded line with gentle fingertips and nods. "I think we should go upstairs." Artemi says something in quick Russian, his eyebrows high. Sid recognizes the word _dick_ and he's ninety percent sure it's not an insult. 

"You sure?" Geno asks, sitting up enough to push Artemi into Sid's lap. 

Other than the night they got into the finals, Sid hasn't really touched them much. Not for sex, anyway. He's not stupid. He knows they still fooled around when he wasn't there, but that had been fine. The no sex during the playoffs routine has been around for a long time and Sid doesn't regret not breaking it but- but Geno and Artemi are sun golden and smell a little like chlorine and Sid's hands itch with the want to touch them. 

"Up," Artemi says, shoving at Sid's shoulders. "You run we wait too long."

"I won't _run_ ," Sid says. Still, he climbs off Geno and lets himself be herded up to Geno's room. 

The bed is still unmade. They'd all slept there last night, Geno's turn in the middle, and Sid feels himself going hot just looking at it. It's the biggest one in the house by far, Geno's flair for the over luxurious finally working in Sid's favor. Sid sits on the edge of the mattress and shoves the sheets to the floor. Anticipation curls in his stomach. He hasn't been laid in what feels like forever and he's not sure what to do, how to split his attention between his- his boyfriends evenly. 

In the end, it doesn't matter. Artemi pushes at Sid's shoulders until Sid lays flat, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, and climbs into Sid's lap. His hair has dried into a curly, fluffy mess and his nose is pink from the sun. Sid wraps his hands around Artemi's biceps, laughing when Artemi flexes them. Artemi grins, cheeky the same way Geno is, and Sid leans up to kiss him. Artemi's not small, not by any stretch, but he's narrower than Sid, more lean muscle than sheer bulk, and Sid wants to shove him around, wants to mess him up. 

The mattress creaks as Geno sits down, settling in against the headboard. His shin rests against Sid's shoulder, the dark hair there itching faintly against Sid's skin. Artemi pets absently at Sid's chest while he and Geno have a short conversation. Sid resolves to more concentrated effort in learning Russian. The best defense is offence, but knowing the other team's play doesn't hurt. Geno waves his hand imperiously, nose turned up, and Sid can't stop the laugh that bursts free from him. Artemi stands back up, which isn't really part of the plan. 

"Come here," Geno says. It takes Sid a moment to realize Geno means _him_. He sits up and scootches back on the mattress, letting Geno manhandle him into place. Geno's chest is warm against Sid's back, his thighs wide and strong on either side of Sid's hips. He loops an arm around Sid's waist and holds him close. 

And Sid's maybe bigger than Artemi, but Geno's got them both trumped. It feels like he's everywhere. Sid tilts his head back and kisses the edge of Geno's mouth. Geno smiles at him, soft and sweet, and kisses him properly. It's easy to get distracted by the rough drag of Geno's lips against his, by the lewd drag of tongue against his lower lip.

He breaks away when he feels a tug at the legs of his trunks. Artemi's already pushed his own off and the sunlight coming in through the window highlights the stark difference between the brown skin of his stomach and the soft, pale skin of his hips. Sid leans back into Geno and lifts his ass. His trunks slide off easily enough, the slippery lining dragging enough against his cock to make him shiver. 

Geno tucks his knees under Sid's and pulls them open, making room for Artemi to fit between them. It should feel claustrophobic, like he's being penned in, but he likes how close they are. It feels more like a cocoon than a cage. Artemi runs his hands over Sid's thighs, the catch of the calluses on his palms against fine hair making Sid's dick twitch. He says something before pressing a chaste kiss to Sid's knee. 

He can't seem to stop touching. His hands run over Sid's chest, his fingers pausing on Sid's nipples. He spends a moment flicking his thumbs back and forth over them, fingers spread wide across Sid ribs. When he's had his fill of that, he takes a brief detour to squeeze Geno's hand where it rests over Sid's abs.

"He think about this," Geno says into Sid's ear. His voice is low and warm and Sid can feel the rumble of it against his back. "He tell me when we fuck, wonder what it be like with you with us." Sid's mouth feels dry. He thinks about the time he'd walked in on them, arousal sitting heavy in his belly. He hadn't seen much, but he still remembers how flushed Artemi had been, remembers the confident stroke of Geno's hand over Artemi's cock. 

Christ, he's waited for so long. 

Artemi grins and licks Sid's hip. Sid runs his fingers through Artemi's hair, tugging him closer. He's almost all the way hard, his dick curving up towards his stomach and the head peeking out from the foreskin, red and rude. He feels dirty when Artemi- Artemi with his sweet, young face- kisses the base. Sid groans and adjusts as best he can in Geno's arms. 

"Look, Sid," Geno says. He rests his chin on Sid's shoulder, their stubble scraping together. It sounds loud, jarring. The house is, for once, too quiet. "He's pretty, yes?"

"Yeah," Sid breathes out. 

"Fuck you," Artemi says brightly. His breath is warm against Sid's cock and Sid's hips jerk toward him. He rubs the soft hair of his goatee against Sid's thigh, lips just brushing against Sid's balls. It feels amazing, Sid's skin sensitive and touch hungry. It's not fair that he only gets to do this for a few days. He wants to keep both of them in bed and make up for lost time. 

He jerks when Artemi runs a finger around the head of his cock, pushing the foreskin back just a little. Geno's arm tightens around his waist, bringing them closer together. Sid can feel Geno getting hard against his back, the slick nylon of his trunks sticking to Sid's skin. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. He settles on curling one around Geno's calf and resting the other on Artemi's head, fingers sinking into his curls. 

Artemi takes his time, rubbing his closed mouth over the head of Sid's cock, down over the vein. He lips at the soft skin of Sid's balls, his tongue poking out briefly trace the seam. The touches are light, more of a tease than anything else, and Sid whines. Artemi laughs, stroking Sid's thigh like he's gentling a frightened animal. Sid has the distinct feeling that this is payback for making them wait for so long. 

One of Geno's hands slide down over Sid's belly. He wipes his thumb over the damp head of Sid's cock, huffing in amusement as Sid bucks against it. He beckons Artemi closer and presses his thumb to Artemi's plush lower lip. Artemi grins and sucks it in, the pink slip of his tongue just visible before he closes his lips. He looks obscene, absolutely filthy in the best sort of way. 

"Okay, I was an asshole," Sid says in a rush. He leans more of his weight back onto Geno, wiggling a little to rub up against his dick. He can't really move his lower half, spread open over on Geno's thighs, but Geno's breath still hitches a little. "Can we get to the good stuff now, please?"

"You tease for long time," Artemi says. Geno's thumb leaves a wet smear over his lips and chin as it falls away from his mouth. "Is fair."

"I did not."

"You did," Geno argues. He sinks his teeth into the curve of Sid's shoulder, soft enough not to really hurt. "Was awful. Tema cry over your ass." Artemi says something in Russian, quick and biting, and Geno's chest rumbles with laughter. An unbearable swell of tenderness breaks into Sid's chest and refuses to leave. He's going to miss them so fucking much over the summer. 

"Let me go," Sid says. Geno immediately drops his knees and arms, freeing Sid up. Artemi scrambles backwards, nearly tumbling over the edge of the mattress. 

"Okay?" Geno asks. His face is creased in concern and Sid winces when he realises they think he's backing out. 

"Yeah," he says. "I'm fine. I just- I don't want to play right now, okay? I just need to-" Sid reaches back, grabbing Artemi's arm and pulling him forward. He kisses him, quick and needy. He just wants to be close to them, wants to feel the all around him while he can get it. "Take your shorts off, G."

Geno strips off his trunks, tossing them onto the floor. Sid pushes and pulls both of them, ignoring their gentle taunting, until he's got Geno against his front and Artemi at his back. Everything is hot and slick, so much skin everywhere that Sid feels like he's going to get lost in it. It's what he wants. Artemi pushes his hips forward just a little, his cock hot and hard against Sid's ass, and Sid groans. 

"You so bossy," Geno says, brushing a kiss over Sid's forehead. "Always have to be captain." 

"I am the captain," Sid says. His voice breaks a little when Geno gets a hand between them, his long fingers wrapping around their cocks. He squeezes, just a little, and Sid rocks towards him. 

It's a little messy, a little awkward, all three of them working to find a rhythm. Artemi slides his dick between Sid's thighs, the head pushing Sid's balls up and leaving damp trails on every forward thrust of his hips. He's surprisingly chatty, his voice a constant murmur against the back of Sid's neck. Sid doesn't understand most of it, his head too foggy to translate, but what he does catch is _filthy_. He closes his eyes and lets the pictures Artemi's painting wash over him. 

Geno kisses him, hard and sure, his teeth scraping against Sid's lip just shy of painful. His hand keeps up the slow, hard slide over their cocks, frustratingly steady, and Sid fights the urge to roll them over and rut against the hard plane of Geno's stomach. He's trapped anyway, Artemi's arm locked tight around his hips, holding him in place. He can only do what they want him to, and he finds he's really, really into that idea. 

"I want to watch you fuck him," Artemi says, his breath fanning hot over the sweat gathering on Sid's shoulders. His free hand skirts over Sid's chest before turning. He shoves two fingers into Geno's mouth and Geno's eyes close as he sucks on them. Sid can hear the wetness of his tongue against them, has a close up view of Geno's pursed lips sliding over skin. His dick jerks and he whines, bucking up into Geno's hand. "You'd be so good together."

God, he bets Geno would be a bossy bottom. He thinks about Geno shoving him over, climbing onto his lap and using Sid's dick to get himself off. He thinks about Artemi's wide, dark eyes watching them and shudders. He's so close he can taste it, his body a tight strung wire waiting to be snapped. Artemi's thrust speed up, his running dialogue turning into high pitched grunts, and then he freezes, coming in thick spurts over Sid's thighs and balls. 

"Fuck." Sid's shaking, his nails bit deep into the tense muscles of Geno's back. He hitches his thigh over Geno's hip, pulling him forward. It makes it harder for Geno to keep stroking them, his motions muted between their stomachs, but it doesn't matter. Artemi drags a hand down Sid's spine, over the swell of his ass. He presses the pad of his thumb to Sid's hole, rubs it back and forth before pushing _in_ and Sid comes, his stomach clenching and his balls aching as they empty out over Geno's hand. 

Geno makes a low, wrecked sound and shoves. Sid winds up on his back, half on top of Artemi, breathless and wrung out. Geno rolls over, one hand pressing Sid's shoulder down, the other still working ruthlessly over his cock. It hurts, the heel of Geno's palm supporting most of his weight, but Sid's too busy watching the flex of his bicep, the angry red of the head of Geno's cock peeking through his fist, to struggle against it. Geno's eyes are dark and half-lidded, his mouth open. He lets out a punched-out, bitten off groan when he comes, hot streaks joining the mess on Sid's stomach. 

Artemi wheezes when Geno tips over on top of them. Sid's shoulder aches now that the pressure is off of it, but he's warm and wrapped up in a tangle and Artemi's playing with Sid's hands even as he grumbles in sleepy Russian. Sid closes his eyes and tries to force this moment, this heap of satisfaction and safety, into a memory that will get him through the summer. They lay like that for a long moment, content, until Sid's stomach starts to itch. 

"I'm sticky," Sid says. Geno snorts a laugh and rolls off the bed, wandering out towards the bathroom. 

He reappears a few moments later, a washcloth in his hand and his mouth open wide in a yawn. Sid bats him away when Geno tries to clean him up, stealing the washcloth and rubbing at the dried come between his thighs and on his stomach himself. He doesn't need to be coddled. When he's done, he hands it off to Artemi, who shrugs and tosses the cloth off the edge of the bed. 

Geno sprawls out on his back, one arm out over the pillows, and Sid lays his head on the space that's been made for him. A moment later, Artemi snuggles up behind him, hooking the sheet with a foot and covering them all up. It'll get too hot soon, and Sid doesn't really take naps outside of the season, but for now he doesn't want to move. He listens to the beat of Geno's heart even out, feels as his breaths become deeper, slower. 

"We coming back," Artemi says, his voice quiet over Geno's sleep sounds. He rubs Sid's chest with the flat of his palm, a slow circle that ends over Sid's heart. "We work hard to get you. We not give up so easy, yes?"

"I know," Sid says. He does. Doesn't make it any easier. 

"Let old man sleep," Artemi says, his grin pressed to Sid's skin. "We do again later, okay?" Sid laughs and closes his eyes. 

The leave soon, but they'll come back to him. That's all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me over on [tumblr](http://notyourlovesong.tumblr.com).


End file.
